The Summer I Logged Off

My eyes burned with that familiar blue-light sting at 2 AM. Again. Lila had posted five stories while I was doomscrolling, each one making me feel more FOMO than the last. My iphone was basically glued to my hand at this point—total zombie mode, just like everyone else at Northwood High.

"You coming to the lake today?" Maya asked at lunch, sliding onto the cafeteria bench beside me. "Or are you gonna let that thing turn your brain to mush?"

I glared at my screen. "Maybe. If I can finish editing this reel."

"You said that yesterday. And the day before." Maya snatched my phone—my actual lifeline to social existence—and tucked it into her pocket. "We're going. No excuses. Your followers can survive without your face for four hours."

I felt that weird panic flutter in my chest. The same one everyone gets when they're separated from their digital self. What if someone DM'd? What if I missed a trend? What if people forgot I existed?

The lake was glittering like someone spilled diamonds across it. Maya's cousins were already there, screaming and splashing like normal teenagers instead of the phone-obsessed zombies we'd all become.

"Your turn." Maya grinned, shoving me toward the dock. "Jump or I'm posting that embarrassing photo from seventh grade."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

I jumped. The water swallowed me whole—shocking cold, perfect clarity. When I surfaced, dripping and breathless, something weird happened. I laughed. Like, actually laughed, not just that little lol I type without thinking.

Maya's cousin Jake tossed me a volleyball. "Teams! Losers buy snow cones!"

Three hours later, I was exhausted, prune-fingered, and happier than I'd been in months. My phone sat untouched on the beach towel, and the world hadn't ended. No one had unfollowed me. No crucial drama had gone down without me.

But something else had happened. I'd made inside jokes with Jake's crew. I'd actually seen Maya's real smile—not just her filtered one. I'd felt alive instead of that walking-dead numbness that comes from eight hours of daily scrolling.

"Not bad for a zombie," Maya said as we walked back, my phone still buried in her pocket.

"Yeah, yeah." I bumped her shoulder. "Maybe tomorrow we can actually go somewhere without me fighting for my phone like it's oxygen."

"Deal. But I'm still posting that seventh grade photo if you relapse."

"Maya!"

She laughed. "Kidding. You're not a zombie anymore. I think you're finally... present."

The sunset painted everything pink and gold, and for the first time in forever, I didn't feel the urge to capture it. I just wanted to live in it.